The sun dips down Then climbs again as Another day goes by. And we’re left silently waiting Asking “Where?” and “When?” And “Why?” Did you know you’d Be so late this week When embarking on your ride? And we’re left silently pondering “Leave the bins out on the street? Or bring them back inside?”

LOST! Reward for Information if you know, The whereabouts of Our bin men adrift Somewhere in the snow. For two whole days We’ve kept vigil Eyes casting north, west, South and east For any sign at all of those brave Hi-Viz and their Beast. If you chance upon them Lost and lonely somewhere, Please forgive…

It’s Wednesday now Where are you, boys? You’re running a full day late. And I simply can’t help worrying Though I’m in no way irrate That you’ve not yet Been down our street In your Hi-Viz vests aglow You’re running behind, I think I’ll find, Because of all this snow.

It’s been a little while since my last Rubbish Poem, over two months actually, so I thought it time for another. I know, and I agree with you when you exclaim, “It took you two months to write this?!” Two baseball’s and one bobble Crown the heads of the Hi-Vis trio, Warming these barons of…

A wet grey morn comes dawnin’, Dawn, dawnin’, On the scene. Those Hi-Viz boys come rollin’, Roll, rollin’ Down the street. Their steel-toes tappin’, Tap, tappin’ On black-soled booted feet. An’ they’re all yappin’, Yap, yappin’, With any folks they meet. Here She now comes a-roarin’, Roar, roarin’, Into view. Man, you best be praisin’,…

The clash of cans And thrum of tins Sound a descant above the Repeated caterwaul As The Beast backs shrilly up.   Amid chimes of shattered glass, Chorussing clatters and clunks And crashing clangs, The Hi-Viz march their tune On percussive, booted feet.   With raucous riot and rumbling roar, The Beast feeds, mewling her…

Oh, but you were So sneaky, On this drab, Cold Tuesday morn, When you came Softly creeping Through the Steel grey Light of dawn.   Where was the March of boots? The thump of your Stamping feet? Instead you Hi-Viz boys Slipped quietly, Wraith-like, Along our Sleeping street.   With voices strangely muted, Your words…

It’s Tuesday, Oh-eight-twenty-five. I waken, fresh and rested. My ears attuned and listening for The approach of Hi-Viz vested Minions and The Beast To come bearing down our lane For, without their weekly visit Life isn’t quite the same. It’s Tuesday, Oh-eight-thirty-three. I check again, look down the street, For a sweet sight or the…

Yapp! Yapp, yapp! Cry the neighbourhood hounds, Canine ears alert to the Bin men on their rounds. Yapp! Yapp, yapp! Howl the mutts inside their dwelling As rumbling closer The Beast And her Hi-Viz team come yelling. Yapp. Yapp. Whimper timid, frightened dogs, By the roar from crunching, grinding, Ripping, tearing cogs. Shush! Quiet, steady!…

On tender toes, along our street, Gentle were their booted feet, So soft and stealthy did they creep. No disturb came to my anxious sleep.   Bright orange tabards, maybe a yellow vest, Couldn’t rouse me from my troubled rest. No shouts or call to arms did I hear As Hi-Viz minions marched ever near….

“Stay Safe” A Rubbish Poem #10   How much longer will you come calling, Crawling down our street, In your bright orange pants and tabards, In your steel-toe cap booted feet?   For The Beast that rides beside you Is not the beast of which we’re all now feared. Stay safe my Hi-Viz heroes In…